


Shuffling The Cards Of Your Game

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Mojo - All Media Types, Mojo - Butterworth
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biting, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Dirty Talk, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Knifeplay, M/M, Painplay, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:27:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I won't soothe your pain. I won't ease your strain. You'll be waiting in vain. I got nothing for you to gain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shuffling The Cards Of Your Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BekahRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BekahRose/gifts), [sksdwrld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/gifts), [Camelittle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camelittle/gifts), [Waanderlust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waanderlust/gifts).



> Written for the Porn Battle prompts _Baby/Skinny, jukebox, cutlass, cheating, grabbing, [any]_ which in fairness are my own prompts. Also for those who have been cheering this one along in the chatzy.
> 
> Brief references to canon past sexual abuse which is implied to be underage.
> 
> Title and summary taken from [Eyes On Fire](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IHFVn0sv14) by Blue Foundation. The lyrics and song referenced is [Be-Bop-A-Lula](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4_5593-skQ) by Gene Vincent which is used later in the play.

“Fuck, fuck!” Skinny heard one of the others shout even though to Baby, nobody else was even there. All Baby’s attention was focused on him, his eyes on fire with anger, his glare murderous, the cutlass shimmering, proving dangerously sharp under the light. Where it not for the rope biting into his arms, holding him up, his knees would have given out by now. He would have been out of there by now.

The only coherent thought was he was going to end up hurt, Baby would kill him, slit his throat with the cutlass or cut his bollocks off and that’d be it, no more having children some day. Fuck, his heart was racing enough, he might not even need killing, it might just give out, with his knees.

He breathed heavily as the cutlass was moved away from him, pointing instead at Sid, at Sweets, poor bastards, they didn’t even know which way was up. Out of Baby’s eye line, Skinny breathed easier, his heart slowing, the screaming in his head, telling him that was it, goodnight Vienna, lowered to a whisper.

But the cutlass waved them out and they didn’t need telling twice, running past him to the stairs. Sweets, poor fuck, at least had the heart to look sorry but it didn’t stop them bolting. The realisation that without them, it was just him and Baby, kicked him back to panicking. “Fuckers, he’ll kill me!”

But they didn’t come back and the obvious show of fear made Baby laugh. “Is that what I’ll do, Skinny Luke? Will I kill you?”

Skinny’s eyes followed the cutlass, still shining in the unnatural light. There was no right answer, not with Baby. If he said yes, Baby’d cream himself that he’d got such a reaction. If he said no, he might well just kill him to prove him wrong. He hated this game. “Just fuck off, I’m not fucking playing.”

“Of course you’ll play, you always play,” Baby said over his shouting, stepping in so close that Skinny was surprised he hadn’t gone deaf with it all. “You just make a fuss so we all know you’re not _playing_ and then we’ll play, won’t we?”

The cutlass was lowered and for a moment, it wasn’t the threat. The threat was words. Wrong ones and he was fucked. Right ones and Baby’d start singing. Despite the urge to shout, he lowered his voice, trying to calm him. Sometimes it even worked. “Baby, let me down. This isn’t a game, is it? It’s not fair.”

“And what would be fair? You cheated,” Baby said into his neck, making Skinny instinctively turn his head away. “You cheated our last game, pulling cards from nowhere.”

“I’m sor-” Skinny started but a hand came up to cover his mouth, the one Baby had been using to prop himself against the juke. Now there was nothing between them. Not a breath. He was fucked.

“Shhh, now, Baby’s talking,” he said and tilted Skinny’s head back until he couldn’t look at him, he could only look up, pray to the Heavens. “What game would you play? We’d have a nice drink and I’d tell you the six pleats look good on you and you’d tell me you _loved_ me?”

“I don’t fuck-” Skinny tried to protest around Baby’s hand but he clamped it tighter, cutting him off before he could deny it.

“Not finished talking,” Baby said, raising the cutlass again, waving it like he was telling off a yappy brat before lowering it again. “We could do that or – or we could play a nice hand, where you don’t pull aces from your arse and you don’t make me all upset and I don’t have to tie you up and teach you how to be friendly.”

“Baby...”

“Or we can play this game!” 

For a heartbeat, there was no game; no hint at what was racing through Baby’s fucked up mind that filled him with false happiness. Then he felt the cold metal of the cutlass run up the inside of his calf, climbing up his leg, making him shiver involuntarily. 

He knew if he just kept still, let Baby play his game without playing himself, he’d get bored soon enough. But the cutlass didn’t stop climbing, right to the inside of his thigh, way too intimate a touch for something that could kill him. Slice his femoral artery. Goodnight, Sweetheart. He couldn’t stop himself jumping, thrashing to try and escape it. Baby’s hand slipped under his top lip and instinctively, he bit down.

Baby pulled his hand away, looking at it for a second before looking back at him, glaring, angry again. “Now that wasn’t very nice. I was being ever so gentle.”

Baby twisted his wrist, the cutlass turning sharply upwards, under his balls then over his cock. So much more threatening than the grabbing had been. “I don’t have to be so gentle.”

Skinny closed his eyes, waiting for something to be hacked off him but when he felt the metal; it was surprisingly gentle, despite Baby’s threats. He didn’t like where it was going though, up under the side of his pants until the metal bit into the bone of his hip. It turned sharply and it burned even though it didn’t break the skin. It slashed through the poor fabric of his already abused underwear, making one half drop dramatically and hang, barely covering him.

“Now, you don’t look pleased to see me, Skinny Luke,” Baby muttered, voice conspiratorially low. “I don’t know whether to be offended or... disappointed.”

Anger welled up again, fear forgotten for a sweet moment that he knew would cost him later. “You’ve got a sword held to my nuts. Or had you forgotten?”

The cutlass crossed over his body, the flat of it pressing painfully against him, making sure he didn’t forget but again, the sharpened edge attacked material, not flesh and when the last shreds of his pants fell to the floor, along with the trousers already pooled around his ankles, the cutlass was removed from his personal space.

“What, this old thing?” Baby waved it in the air before dropping it with a clatter, making Skinny jump, hands trying to move to cover himself before the rope stopped them. “There you go, feel better now.”

It wasn’t a question, an enquiry after his general wellbeing. It was a statement, nothing less than a command. “Yes, thank you.”

“Good, good.” Baby took a step back from him, surveying him, hand pressing to his own chest, over his own skin. “I would hate for you to feel uncomfortable. I would hate for _me_ to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Fine,” Skinny bit out, not wanting to rock the boat but not wanting to stay vulnerable either. “Let me down then.”

“No!” Baby shouted suddenly, crowding him again, his hands pushing against his chest like he had anywhere he could be going. “That’s not the game.”

“Fine, Baby, you win, I’ll play,” Skinny said, rushing words out before Baby’s strength, his body, crushed his chest.

“Good. Glad to hear it. It’s always much better if you play too,” Baby muttered, half to himself. “Let’s play Chess. That was my move.”

Skinny stared at him, swallowed, silent for a moment. “I don’t know how to play. Don’t you need a board or some’ing. We’ve only got cards. And I don’t know where they went’ with all the... all the... excitement.”

“Did you check your other shoe?” Baby gave a dramatic, sad sigh. “It’s not really chess, is it. Just make your move.”

“What move did you make?” Skinny asked, needing guidance but not wanting to copy him. He had a thing about copying. Do as he says, not as he does. Baby looked at the cutlass then looked at the pile of clothes at Skinny’s feet. Ah.

“Would you like me to help you?” Baby offered, elbow jammed into the jukebox, hand propping up his head so he could lean and look entirely casual while he was coercing him. “This is where you tell me you love me.”

Skinny looked at him, ready to scoff but he didn’t dare do it yet, not when Baby’s eyes drifted south.

“Or without the protection of your _lovely_ blue trousers to cushion you, I’ll squeeze them so hard we’ll have to start calling you Lucy, not Luke.”

“Alright!” Skinny shouted too quickly, too loudly, fear obvious. “I’ll do it. I mean, I’ll say it. Because you want to hear it. Doesn’t mean anything. Doesn’t make it-”

“You’re saying an awful lot. Not what you’re meant to...” The last bit made Skinny shiver with each word. Baby’s hand walked down the front of his shirt with each word. Fingertips digging in hard enough to bruise.

“I love you, Baby, ok?” Skinny yelled quickly, hoping the volume would cover the shake, the break, the tremble. Make Baby believe it even though it was a weak effort.

“I know you do. Sad really. A little perverted actually. But I’m _very_ understanding. My move.” Baby pushed the palm of his hand flat and slid it the rest of the way down. Skinny closed his eyes, wincing, ready for the pain but it was worse. Baby was gentle, he stroked, cupping his balls, not squeezing. Not playful. Gentle.

“Baby...” Skinny started but that made Baby look up and he couldn’t go on. He wasn’t angry. For a moment he was soothed. Calm. Gentle.

“It’s your turn, I’ll help. Do you like this?” Baby asked.

“What? I don’t know... you can’t just-”

“I’ll make it easier for you; do you like this more than the grabbing?”

“Yeah. But-” Skinny started, not wanting Baby to start squeezing.

“No, I can see how that might have been too forceful, not subtle enough,” Baby mused, letting go of his balls. “Ah, my move.”

He placed his hand over Skinny’s cock, still soft and he still jumped at the touch. “I thought if we agreed that I put the cutlass down, you’d be happier.”

“I can’t just-”

“You seemed to manage perfectly fine before. With the girl. With the squeezing.”

“It’s not the same, is it?” Skinny said even though he could feel himself burn red.

“What, you thought she’d fuck you? You thought she’d let _you_ fuck _her_?” Baby leaned in, mouth against his cheek, confusing him. “Is that what you wanted? Is that what you want? Shall I tell you I’d fuck you, will that help?”

“I don’t know, alright,” Skinny complained, not knowing which question he was answering, trying not to think about any of them and definitely not thinking about the slow circles of Baby’s thumb, like he was being petted.

“Have you ever had a woman?” Baby asked, his other hand coming up to his neck, turning him, for once, to face him. Their foreheads pressed painfully together, there was nothing else could look at. “Have you ever had anything?”

“Fuck off,” Skinny said without conviction. Any ability to feel strongly about anything was lost to bewilderment.

“Girls? Boys? Cats? Dogs? Fish? Frogs?”

“Fuck you! I don’t want to play no more!” Skinny said, trying to twist away.

“Yes, you do. And that’s exactly what you want to play. You want to fuck me. Me to fuck you. You want us to fuck.” Baby inhaled, dragging his mouth over Skinny’s cheekbone. “Alright, we’ll play your game.”

"Baby..." Skinny started to protest but his head was a mess, fucked by fear and touching and fucking words. He knew he was losing ground quickly; cock half hard if only for the attention it was being paid. He was fucked. "Fucking night, eh?"

"Yeah," Baby agreed, voice so soft that it didn't seem like him, didn't seem like a game. "Fucking night."

Then he was kissing him, foreheads splitting and mouths connecting in their place. Skinny struggled but he no longer knew what he was struggling against. Or what he was struggling for. Part of him was struggling for more. His wrists chaffed against the rope before he even knew what he was reaching for. But Baby ducked out of reach before he could even ask. On his knees, he didn't look up, he didn't say anything. Didn't make a fuss or any threats. He just sat there for a moment, quiet.

Skinny had never seen him hesitate. "Baby..."

"You keep saying my name like that, I will make you scream it instead," Baby said dully, like the flat of the blade.

"Alright, calm down," Skinny said quickly. "I was just going to say, you don't have to play. If you don't want."

Baby looked up sharply and Skinny swallowed. How the fuck had he gotten here, offering mercy to Baby. "I don't do anything I don't want to, do I?"

Skinny shook his head. Baby did what he wanted, when he wanted. If he didn't, he wouldn't be tied to the juke and they wouldn't be doing this because none of this was his idea. He couldn't fucking make it up.

“Well then,” Baby said, starting to hum as his hand wrapped around Skinny’s cock. 

At first it was tuneless, the humming and for a second it broke, as Baby licked his lips and inched them over the head, the heat of Baby’s mouth, the tip of his tongue overriding any fear or thought. But after he’d taken him as far as he was apparently going to, the humming started back up again, Baby started on the Gene Vincent.

He was doing on purpose, Skinny knew he was. Just like when he slunk up behind him, squeezed his nuts and humming in his ear. Then later, he’d put it on the juke and stared at him, watching for a reaction. Skinny knew that at some point in his future, the words of _Be Bop A Lula_ would come back to haunt him, each utterance of _baby_ bringing him back to this moment. He knew in that second that it was just another one of Baby’s schemes, another way to manipulate him into staying and putting up with his shit but he couldn’t bring himself to put a stop to it.

Baby had him so well trained that he could almost hear him singing in his head; be bop a Lula, she’s my _baby_ , be bop a Lula, I don’t mean maybe. The repeated vibrations of the low _my baby doll, my baby doll, my baby doll_ were almost too much and he finally spoke up, “Fuck, Babes, I can’t... what with the humming. Slow down, yeah?”

Baby pulled back, sitting on his heels and Skinny sighed a breath of relief. Baby rolled his eyes but he hadn’t bitten him while he had the chance to so Skinny counted it a win.

“Alright, Skinny Luke, love, I thought I was being nice... being _romantic_ but if you want to get straight to it.” Baby stood suddenly, pulling the rope from the jukebox, leaving it loose and tangled in his shirt. Taking him by the hips, he spun Skinny around, the rope chaffing where it touched but he didn’t complain because if he really wanted to, he could break free now. But he didn’t. Want to, that was.

Bunching his shirt up at the back, Baby ran his fingers over his spine, trailing down into the cleft of his arse. Skinny put his hands on the juke, bracing himself. He’d never been fucked before, not like this but he’d heard a lot of talk, most of it from Baby himself. And from the moment Baby had kissed him, actually fucking kissed him; he didn’t doubt that this wasn’t a game anymore. He was being played, for sure, but it wasn’t a fucking game.

“Here,” Baby said, pulling his head back by his hair and two of his fingers were suddenly tracing his lips. “Suck. And suck them real hard... because otherwise it’ll hurt and you don’t want that.” There was a second’s pause and then, “I don’t want that.”

Skinny nodded, taking the fingers into his mouth and sucking them for all he was worth. If Baby knew what he was talking about, he’d jump when asked. Just this once. Just because it suited him. The fingers were pulled from his mouth, knocking his teeth on the way out and as if to counter Baby’s admission of actually giving a fuck, they were pushed up inside him, no warning, no nothing.

He fought not to make a sound. And yet again, his eyes were watering and he was telling himself that no matter what, he was not crying but Baby knew how to get him in all the worst ways and he knew if he took the piss now, that would be it, he’d be gone because there was only so far he could push. He’d perfected tiptoeing that line to an art.

“Bite down on something, your hand or something... it helps,” Baby said quietly in his ear and something twisted guiltily in Skinny’s stomach. Something he didn’t even want to think about. That was Baby’s line, right there and he wasn’t going over it.

The hand that had been holding his hair came down to stroke the back of his neck, round to his throat before he offered it to Skinny’s teeth. Skinny didn’t bite down though, in case it was some trick, some punishment for nipping him before.

“Go on, I won’t mind,” Baby promised but the pain, like burning, was gone. Baby had let him go and Skinny wasn’t quite sure he liked that. He’d opened him up and left him empty. He needed him back. But craning his neck around, he saw he was only reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a battered looking box. Baby caught his gaze and laughed, “Something for the weekend, eh?”

“What the point in that?” Skinny shook his head and returned to stare at the juke, resting his forehead against it for a second.

“Stays wet longer,” Baby reasoned, pushing his own blue six pleats down to his knees and sliding the condom on, spitting a good few times in his palm and sliding that over the condom.

“If you say so,” Skinny said, giving up any semblance of argument. Baby had him now, over a barrel – or a jukebox at least.

They could have gone around the matter again, discussed what else could do in a pinch but Baby’s cock was pressing against him and pushing and inching in and he found he didn’t care for what was on his dick anymore as long as it was him. It was burning, worse than his fingers had been but something deep and dark twisted in his stomach, wanting more and he held his breath, trying to settle his mind and his body.

Baby was fucking him. Baby had his cock halfway up his arse and fuck it if he knew what would happen when the others had the balls to come back. Would Baby keep on with his love tirade? Would he just tell them all outright? Would every fight they had turn into this? He fucking hoped so, this he could live with but his bollocks ached for ages after Baby was through messing about with them.

“You alright there, Skin?” Baby asked him as his hips hit home. “You’ve gone all... quiet.”

“Fucking fine, fucking, fuck...” Skinny swore, feeling Baby’s hips drag back again. 

“Because I know it can be overwhelming, your first time,” Baby continued, the hand that had come to rest on his chest rising again to his mouth. “There’s no shame admitting that.”

“Fucking...fine. Thank you,” Skinny huffed, ignoring his offer. He wouldn’t bite down like Baby would have. He wouldn’t cry, no matter how his eyes watered.

“I won’t mind.” His hips pushed forward again, harder this time, with feeling. “You didn’t seem to have any compunction about biting me before.”

“I said I’m fine, just...” Skinny bit his lip, hating begging. “Can I have one of my hands free and I’ll sort myself out.”

“No, no, Skinny, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Baby took his other hand from Skinny’s hip and walked it down to his cock. “Here, I’ll stroke, you bite, we’ll have a proper go of it, yeah?”

Skinny shrugged and muttered something incomprehensible that in his head had mentioned Baby shutting up. With Baby pressed to his back, fucking into him and wrapping his arms around him, one around his shoulder, the other around his hips, he was more trapped than he had been tied to the juke. But like this, Baby’s hand wrapped around his cock, tentatively wanking him off and the taste of skin on his tongue where he’d finally bitten gently into the soft flesh of the heel of Baby’s hand, he found he didn’t mind so much. In fact, it was all a little intoxicating, more so that Sweets weak as piss pills had been. He was on a high and it didn’t seem to hurt as much now, his body distracted by more appealing sensations. 

The hands bracing him against the juke were turning white at the knuckles and slowly, the pain was outweighed by the good that he felt, the spark he felt inside. And Baby was starting to lose pace, his hips stuttering as he thrust blindly, holding him so tight he thought he’d break. But one hit had hit something proper and he saw stars, he saw all the colours of the rainbow in the glass of the juke and he accidentally bit down hard on Baby’s hand to muffle the moan that would have given him away. Baby hissed and for a second, Skinny thought he was screwed but Baby just pushed on, fucking him harder, returning the favour and biting down into his shoulder through his shirt. Skinny knew his teeth should hurt, it all should hurt but it felt so fucking good that he didn’t know which way was up. He didn’t know pain from coming and he was coming, all over the fucking juke, Baby’s fucking hand, fucking... himself. His legs did give out, just like he’d thought they would but Baby kept him upright, not the ropes. And Baby shushed him, said the nicest things that Skinny wouldn’t remember five seconds later. And then he was pulling back, pulling out, leaving him empty again.

Baby leant him against the juke, pulling off the condom and clumsily tying it before throwing it to the floor to deal with later. Skinny turned as best he could, eyes following the condom up to six shoes, three pairs of legs and three bodies stood at the top of the stairs. Sweets looked dumbfounded. Potts looked a little bit sick. And Mickey. Mickey looked exasperated. Exactly like he did when he caught them fighting. Exactly.

The silence was broken by Baby laughing. Skinny was sure he’d make some quip, some allegation. Say how much he loved him, how he’d begged for it or something but all he said was, “Fucking night, eh?”

**Author's Note:**

> As of 01/01/18, I'm opting to disable comments. [More information here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13077201).


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